


Beneath the Stars

by Fyre



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 15:43:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1610501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So, you’re still a little horndog before a big day, huh?” Bucky murmured.<br/>A weak smile crossed Steve’s lips. “Thinking of all the things I’ll never have a chance to do.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beneath the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> So this scenario walked into my head last night and I couldn't sleep. And I tried to make it go away, but it wouldn't. So I wrote it. You cannot judge me :P

“Well, nobody’s perfect.”

There was something about the way her lips tilted up at the edge, a gleam in her eyes, and Steve felt like he was caught on a knife-edge. She moved around the table, trailing her fingertips along the edge, and he turned to face her, his mouth dry and his heart racing.

“Shouldn’t we go to the debrief?” he managed to ask.

She laid one hand on his chest, as she had when he had first emerged, but this time, her hand lingered.

“I’m sure they will understand if you… take a few moments,” she murmured. She stepped closer and he swayed back, sitting down on the edge of the table. Agent Carter - Peggy’s smile was red and mischievous, and she stepped between his feet.

The map was behind him. His duty. His role.

And yet all he could do was sink his hand into her hair and kiss her. He’d wanted to do it for so damned long, and now, there was no reason why he couldn’t.

It was his first intentional kiss, and he was pretty sure he did it wrong, but when he drew back, his face warm, Peggy’s smile remained. 

“So that’s how it is, is it?” she murmured, her slim, red-nailed fingers undoing one button then another of his uniform jacket. Steve stared down at her hands, then back up at her face as she pushed the jacket back, over his shoulders. It slipped down his arms, crumpling on the map behind him, and she caught him by the tie, pulling him down for another kiss.

He couldn’t help touching her, her waist slender between his broad hands. Beneath the silk of her blouse, he could feel the warmth of her skin and for a second, he wondered if his asthma had returned, his breath catching in his chest.

He felt the tug of her fingertips, plucking the buttons of his shirt and at his tie, and the whisper of cool air on his skin as she drew it open. Her hands were warm and soft against his bare skin and he pulled back, breathing hard.

“Peggy, we shouldn’t.”

She raised her eyebrows, as her hands splayed on his chest and slid down. “Perhaps not,” she agreed, “but we’re quite alone, Captain. I don’t imagine anyone is going to mind.”

He looked around blankly, and for the first time in memory, the bunker was deserted. Desks and chairs were empty, and she was right. It was only them, alone, by the pale golden light of a dozen lamps.

Peggy’s tongue darted out to dampen her lower lip, leaving it shinier and redder than before.

“On your back, Captain,” she murmured.

“Wh-what?”

Her eyes gleamed. “You heard me,” she said, bracing her palms against his chest. “On your back.”

He pushed himself back onto the edge of the table and leaned back on his elbows. “I don’t see how…”

“No,” she said, stepping smoothly between his thighs. She laid her hands, one on each thigh, and squeezed them. “I don’t imagine you do.” Her hands spread and slid up. He hissed through his teeth as she lowered her head and pressed her lips to his sternum. 

Her mouth felt like fire, and his hips shifted of their own accord. He was gasping her name aloud, over and over, and she looked up at him through her lashes, smiling as she left a trail of lipstick down over the twitching muscles of his belly.

“I rather like you like this,” she murmured. Her hands drew his shirt loose from his pants, baring his chest completely. He could hardly breathe. “Debauched. At my mercy.” There was more than a little wickedness in her eyes, as her fingertips traced the edge of his belt. “Helpless.”

“Peggy…”

She leaned over him, one hand pressing to the table by his side and kissed him. He didn’t even realise what her other hand was doing until she touched him, and he jerked back, eyes wide. 

“You… we…” He didn’t know what he wanted to ask. He didn’t know what he was trying to say. All he could do was stare at her, as she touched him and god, he wanted to have her, and he could tell that she knew it too.

“Lie back, Captain,” she whispered against his lips. 

He obeyed - as if he could resist - and shivered in anticipation as she slipped from between his splayed legs, and delicately lifted herself up onto the table. His mouth was dry and he felt light-headed as she drew her skirt up, showing a glimpse of her garter, and straddled him as readily as she would sit astride her motorcycle.

Her legs were warm on either side of him, and the top button of her blouse was undone. She braced her hands on his chest to lean down and kiss him. His own hands moved to catch her by the hips, guiding her down over him, and all he could see was the dark liquid brown of her eyes and the black of her lashes.

 

_______________________________________

 

Steve jerked awake with a ragged gasp.

He didn’t realise what had woken him at first, then he felt the elbow digging into his ribs and sagged back down in the bunk. Bucky. 

It was always kind of awkward to have that kind of dream anyway, but usually, he’d at least had the privacy of his own bed. That was a luxury only the top brass could afford on the front, and even if they offered it to their Captain, he’d wanted to be with his men.

God, this was a bad time to regret that decision.

His groin was throbbing and he winced.

Could have been worse, he figured. He could have stayed asleep, and then woken up with damp pants, and Bucky laughing himself sick. He tried to even out his breathing, but the memory of the dream was too vivid. His imagination always did get away from him the night before a big mission.

“Relax, would ya?”

Steve froze, startled, at Bucky’s sleepy drawl. “You’re awake?”

Sandwiched between Steve and the wall, Bucky shifted. “Well done, Captain Observant,” he yawned. “You know you still flinch like a scalded cat when you wake up unexpectedly, right?”

Steve sat up on the edge of the low bed, mortified. “I’ll let you sleep.”

Bucky’s fingers caught the end of his vest, pulling him back down. “Don’t.”

Steve hesitated. “Don’t?”

“Go,” Bucky clarified, his fingers curling into the back of Steve’s vest. “We’re both awake now anyway. We don’t get much time when it’s just us.”

It was true.

In London, Steve was always in meetings, planning raids. If he and Bucky were ever in the same room, there were usually no less than fifty people around them at all times, and he’d missed the times when it was just them too.

For the first time in months, they were completely alone, in the half-shattered bedroom of a ruined house in the middle of nowhere, moonlight leaving pale patterns on the floor. For just a moment, Bucky was right: it would be good to just have time where it was them, and no one else.

But not now. Not when his shorts felt too tight, and his heart was still racing. He buried his face in his hand.

He could feel Bucky peering at him, then the other man snorted quietly. “Good god, Rogers…” There was amusement in his friend’s voice. “First time we end up sharing a bunk in six years and you get all excited? How desperate are you?”

Steve wished the floor would swallow him up. “Don’t, Buck,” he said quietly. “Please.”

The bunk shifted against behind him. 

Bucky was sitting up, and Steve could feel his friend’s hand hovering a hair’s breadth from his own shoulder. 

Once, Bucky would have slung an arm around him and laughed with him. 

Now, Bucky seemed afraid to touch him, afraid of his size, afraid of the man he’d become. He looked down at his own hands, clenched tightly in his lap, wishing that things could be the way they had been before, because he really needed that friend right now.

It felt like a wire was cut and his shoulders sagged in unconscious relief when Bucky’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. 

“So, you’re still a little horndog before a big day, huh?” Bucky murmured.

A weak smile crossed Steve’s lips. “Thinking of all the things I’ll never have a chance to do.”

Bucky’s fingers moved lightly on his shoulder, curiously, and Steve couldn’t help shifting his shoulders, the muscles moving beneath skin. It was so different now, the sensation of a hand on skin that wouldn’t bruise so easily, and on tissue that was firm and strong.

“About five six,” Bucky murmured. “Red dress. Red lips. Killer shot.”

Steve was blushing and he knew it. “Agent Carter’s a respectable woman.”

Bucky’s other hand was on his back, low, right, against his ribs, and Steve breathed in slowly, deeper than he had been able to before. Bucky was the only person who would remember how he once wheezed and coughed, and now, he could breathe easily, and Bucky could feel it.

“Agent Red Dress would have you on your knees and you know it,” Bucky murmured, his lips close to Steve’s ear, “and knowing you, you’d like it.”

Steve shivered as Bucky’s hand slid around his ribs to press over his heart. It was still beating fast, but it wasn’t just because of the dream now. They’d fooled around, when they were younger, because they were boys, and boys fooled around sometimes. But never since he’d joined the army. No one had even dared go near him, except the blonde on Phillips’ staff, and even then, he’d been caught off-guard.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he whispered.

“Then tell me,” Bucky challenged, and Steve could hear the grin on his face. He shifted his weight, his chest warm against Steve’s back. “Was it all chaste and innocent and white-sheets and a proper bed like a gentleman?” He propped his chin on Steve’s shoulder, and tilted his head against Steve’s. “You do know how a man and woman do it, right?”

Steve snorted, knocking his brow against Bucky’s. “You’re still a dumbass,” he grumbled, leaning back into his friend’s chest. 

Bucky pressed his mouth lightly to Steve’s bare shoulder, his fingers still tracing down Steve’s arm. “And you’re still taller than I remember,” he said, quietly. His left hand reached Steve’s wrist, and he curled his fingers. Steve looked down at the two inch gap between forefinger and thumb. “I used to be able to wrap my whole hand around your wrist.”

Steve turned over his hand, and Bucky wordlessly closed his palm over it, their fingers closing together. “I’m still me, Buck. I’m still that guy.”

Bucky pressed his face against the side of Steve’s neck. “I know,” he whispered, his fingers tightening around Steve’s. “But you don’t feel the same.”

Steve covered Bucky’s other hand over his chest. “I know.” He tilted his head, rubbing his cheek against Bucky’s brow. “I’m still smarter than you.”

Bucky snorted quietly, and bit him on the neck. “You’re friends with me,” he aid, tightening his arm around Steve. “How smart can you be?”

Steve laughed. “Call it a pity case,” he said. “I have to be kind to one idiot a lifetime to make myself feel better.” He ran his fingers along the back of Bucky’s, pressing his friend’s hand over his heart. “Anyway, you were only friends with me so you were the good-looking one.”

Bucky’s smile was palpable against his shoulder. “Still am,” he said. “Don’t go fooling yourself that all these muscles impress anyone.”

“You’re not impressed?”

Bucky’s hand moved a little lower. “Eh. I’ve had better.”

“The hell you have!” Steve couldn’t help smiling. “These are science-approved.”

Bucky’s fingers stroked across his belly. “Science schmience,” he said. “You’re here with me, having dirty dreams about Lady Red, instead of being with her.”

Steve winced. “I was hoping you’d forget about that.”

“Sure,” Bucky grinned and nipped Steve’s earlobe with his teeth. “You gonna tell me? Or do I have to make you cry uncle?”

Steve tensed. “You don’t know my weaknesses like this,” he said. “I’m not the same, you said it yourself.”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed gloomily. Then he closed his hand over the swell at the front of Steve’s shorts and squeezed, earning a yelp. “But I know your biggest weakness, and don’t you forget it, Captain Tightpants.”

“Bucky!”

Bucky’s other hand pulled free from his and covered Steve’s mouth. “Now, now, Cap,” he whispered, grinning like a wolf. “The boys need their sleep for tomorrow.” Steve maliciously licked his hand, and Bucky snickered, rubbing it all over his face. “God, I missed you.”

Steve twisted to look back at him. “I’m still here.”

Bucky searched his face, then leaned closer and kissed him. 

It wasn’t like it would have been with Peggy.

It wasn’t like it would have been with anyone, because it was Bucky, and he was Bucky and Bucky was his. It was a simple as that.

“Tell me?” Bucky asked in a whisper against his lips. 

“Tell you?” Steve echoed, shivering as Bucky’s fingers slipped under his shorts.

“What you dreamed,” he murmured. “Like you did that time you stayed over. When we…” His fingers tightened just enough to make Steve’s eyes roll shut, and his breath catch in his chest. “Tell me all about it.”

Steve felt his cheeks flushing but Bucky was Bucky, and it had been so long since they had been this close, since they had been like they were before. They knew all each other’s secrets. And hell, they might even die tomorrow, so what could it hurt?

“It wasn’t all innocent,” he whispered, groping back, his hand finding Bucky’s leg in the darkness, squeezing his thigh. “She gave the orders.”

“Yeah…” Bucky’s voice was lower. His hand moved slowly, too familiar, too knowing. “She would, wouldn’t she?” He pressed his mouth to Steve’s throat. “Where?”

Steve rocked his head back against Bucky’s shoulder. “The map room.”

A huff of laughter was cool against his throat. “You kinky son of a bitch,” Bucky whispered. “In uniform too, I bet.”

Steve shuddered as Bucky’s thumb stroked and his fingers tightened. “Only at first.”

Bucky went still against his back. “Her?”

“Me,” Steve gasped out. “On my back. On the map.”

Bucky made a small, strangled sound, and his free arm wrapped around Steve’s chest. Steve could feel the press of Bucky’s body against his back. “On your back?”

Steve laughed breathlessly, lifting his hand to rub Bucky’s arm. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Bucky grinned against his shoulder. “Yeah,” he murmured. He tugged with the arm around Steve’s chest, drawing him back down onto the narrow bed to lie down with him. There was much room, but he draped himself halfway over Steve’s body. “How about that?”

Steve looked up at him, his face cast in silver in the moonlight. “You’re an ass,” he said.

“Only when you’re around, Rogers,” Bucky replied, leaning down to claim Steve’s mouth with his own. 

Steve had never really kissed anyone except Bucky, and even then, it wasn’t like this, slow, and intimate, and his mouth was open and so was Bucky’s. His tongue darted against Bucky’s and Bucky made a small, hungry sound in his throat, leaning down over him.

Bucky was rocking against him, and Bucky’s hand was still moving on him, and Steve felt light-headed, and buried his fingers in Bucky’s hair, whispering “Wait, wait, wait…” against Bucky’s panting, open mouth.

Bucky lifted his head, strange shadows dancing across his face. “Wait?”

Steve nodded, reaching down with an unsteady hand and tugging at the waistband of Bucky’s pants. “Like before,” he whispered. “Both of us.”

The smile that broke on Bucky’s face sent warmth rushing through him, and they both fumbled their way out of the few clothes they were wearing. Bucky kicked his pants over onto the floor, and Steve shivered as his friend sprawled out over him, their bare legs tangling together, prickling with goosebumps in the night air.

Bucky braced his hands on either side of Steve’s head. “On your back, Captain?” he whispered, his eyes, gleaming.

Steve tangled his legs close around Bucky, his hands splaying on Bucky’s back, and he looked up at him. Every inch of them was touching, warm and hot and hard, and Bucky was trembling, and god, he’d missed him.

He wrapped his hand around the back of Bucky’s neck and pulled his mouth down into another kiss.

They just lay their together, tangled up in each other’s arms and legs, bodies rubbing against one another, warming against the night air. Bucky dragged his mouth from Steve’s, leaving hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses along his throat and jaw, and he uttered a small, stuttering gasp as Steve’s hands slid down his back, squeezed his ass.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t wild. It was them, and he could have spent hours just letting Bucky get to know his body all over again, touching every plane, running hands and lips and toes all over him, finding new things that had never been there before. 

In the end, Bucky was the one who was spent first, and Steve followed not long after, both of them breathless and shivering against the night chills, their skin shiny with sweat and their hair damp and matted and rumpled by one another’s fingers. 

Steve closed his eyes, breathing out a misted sigh.

“Not exactly Agent Red, I know,” Bucky murmured. He was sprawled over Steve’s torso like a sated cat, his face buried in the crook of Steve’s shoulder. 

“You wouldn’t look good in the dress,” Steve murmured, running his fingers along the back of Bucky’s neck. “You don’t have the hips.”

Bucky rubbed the tip of his nose against Steve’s collarbone. “She likes you.”

Steve opened his eyes, looking up at the stars. “I know.”

“You gonna do something about it?”

“Like what?”

Bucky snorted, nestling against him. “Now I know why you keep me around, Rogers,” he murmured drowsily. “You always did suck at talking to the ladies.”

“And you did so much better?” Steve teased, stroking the nape of his neck. He shifted to give Bucky a little more room, and Bucky tucked himself comfortably in beside him. “I was going to ask her to go dancing.”

“Ha!”

Steve lifted his head to look down at him. “What?”

Bucky’s eyes were closed, but he was smiling. “I’ve seen you dance,” he said. “No girl loves a guy who steps on her toes.” He yawned widely, and patted Steve amiably on the hip. “When we go home, I’ll teach you some steps.”

Steve nuzzled Bucky’s hair. “I’ll hold you too that,” he murmured. “And not some dumb one. Proper dancing.”

“Mm. Proper dancing for you and Agent Red,” Bucky agreed. “Now, will you shut the hell up, Rogers? My Captain has me on a damn-fool mission tomorrow and he’ll be pissed if I don’t get some sleep.”

Steve smacked him on the thigh. “Is that any way to speak to your Captain?”

Brown eyes looked up at him. “No Captain here,” he murmured, lifting a hand to touch Steve’s cheek. “Just some dumb little punk from Brooklyn.” He pressed a finger to Steve’s lips. “Now shut up.”

Steve’s lips twitched helplessly and he nodded, laying his head down on the feeble excuse for a pillow.


End file.
